Duel in the Darkness

"Right, what just happened?" thought Fenn aloud. The cultist's guns had suddenly stopped. The smoke that had hindered the Artemians vision was receding, and with it, all traces of the enemy. During the fighting, they'd heard the screams of pain, and witnessed the explosions that had downed dozens of hounds. Where bodies should have lain slain, there was nothing, not even a trace of blood. It was as if the dogs hadn't been there at all.

"Beats me," said Roland, shouldering his lasgun. "I didn't think a disappearing act was one of the traitor's talents."

Elliah checked the charge on her Lasgun, just to be on the safe side. The street had fallen deathly quiet, the only sound being the confused murmurs of the Guard, poking out of their barricade. Captain Melner was on the vox with command. The other barricades had reported the same thing, no sign of the Vandis heretics anywhere. .

Lieutenant Berk, Melner's second in command, exited the command tent and approached sergeant Polris. "Colonel wants to see you, sergeant, and the two Vendolanders as well. Don't keep him waiting."

Flinn tapped Gren on the shoulder. Gren said nothing, but he shrugged and stood up to follow the Artemians. His face was set in stone, his eyes dead, emotionless. He was simply moving through the motions. A truck dropped them off at the base of the governor's palace, where the Artemians had set up their command center. Berk ushered the trio inside.

The Colonel was a man in his mid-thirties. His dark hair was slicked back, and it made his eerily pale face seem even whiter than it already was. But the thing that caught Flinn and Gren's attention was his flaring green eyes, sunken into his face. They were the eyes of a predator, fierce and ambitious. Dangerous. His speech was terse, to the point and blunt. "Where did you encounter the Vandis force, sergeant?"

Polris gripped his helmet at his side, and spoke. "We were on the outer perimeter when it happened. The heretics collapsed a section of the street with explosives and came out of the lower levels."

"And you two," Nolt said, pointing to Gren and Flinn, "What were you doing that far out?"

Gren just stared at Colonel Nolt. Growing angry, Nolt asked again. "I asked you a question, soldier. Answer it."

Gren still said nothing, meeting Nolt's anger with a blank face. Flinn spoke up. "Sir, if I may?"

Nolt turned his glare on Flinn. "By all means, private. Speak."

"With the 85th stretched as far as it is, finding safe routes and maintaining lines of communication has been a priority. Our squad was en route to the palace to relay a message to sergeant major Merrick. We had just arrived moments before the attack came."

"Without noticing that you were followed?" remarked Nolt. "It seems that the reputation of the Vendoland regiments has been the subject of exaggeration. I expected better from the so called 'Survivors of Sicarus'.

Gren snapped to life, slamming his fist down on the Colonel's table. Nolt remained unfazed, but he didn't stop the sergeant. "You fucking bastard!" he shouted. "You dare to accuse me, accuse Flinn here, of leading the Hounds back to ambush you?"

"Give me a reason to think otherwise, sergeant," said Nolt testily. "Your future might depend on it."

Gren's face was as red as Mars. "Well, first off, maybe you should try listening to your own man over here," he said, pointing to Polris. "He just told you that the Hounds used explosives to collapse the street and allow them surface access. You don't set up something like that overnight. My men just spent the last two weeks making the trek here from Angel Forge. But you wouldn't know that, would you?"

Gren was on the verge of tears, angrily pressing on. "In the past two years, we have lived through hell you can't imagine, Colonel. I have seen men torn limb from limb by Tyranids. I have watched friends crushed by Eldar death spinners. I have even seen people turn their guns on themselves rather than face another day in this hellhole of a subsector! But I have never seen a Vendolander turn on his comrades, or intentionally bring harm to his allies. We're better than that."

Nolt considered this. Eventually he spoke. "My regiment may be new to war, sergeant, but I am not. It is in my blood. I can imagine the horrors you've seen, I've seen them myself. That does not change the fact that you were at the site of their initial attack."

"And what of it?" sneered Gren. "That is reason enough to interrogate us like this?"

"There are always reasons, soldier. However, your point regarding their preparations is valid. As it stands, I've no grounds to hold you on, apart from insubordination. But that is your regiment's jurisdiction, not mine. Luckily for you, your trigger discipline is better than your temper."

Nolt indicated slightly behind him. Flinn glanced there and noticed the Commissar standing silently in the corner, brandishing his laspistol, waiting for a signal that never came. The colonel stood up and went face to face with Gren. "Honesty is a rare trait, sergeant. And I am sure that sergeant Polris here is grateful for your intervention. You may leave. But before you do, I have to tell you: had you not been entirely honest with me, you would have ended that little scene five minutes ago in a matter of seconds. Keep that in mind the next time we meet."

Gren barely turned his head back to Nolt as he stepped outside. "To be honest sir, we've seen enough crazy shit around here that it pays to tell the truth. Something you should keep in mind before you go accusing someone of being something he isn't."

Inside the Administratum Complex, the main foyer was a mess. Arbiter Captain Talros's had his hands full organizing a triage for the wounded. Hundreds of people had been injured or killed in the attack, with the death toll rising steadily. The aide teams were struggling to keep up. Merrick and Hurst oversaw the chaos from the balcony above.

"So, the Black Legion is still here, and we've had attacks on the inside of the defensive line," said Hurst with a sigh. "They're getting bolder Merrick. And if they've got a Sorcerer leading them, we could be seeing another Spire Legis."

Hurst took his helmet off and ran a hand through his short, blond hair. Most of the men had started growing it back, but Merrick had opted to stay shaven. It had never grown properly since his stint on Typhon Primaris, anyways.

"Well then, I suppose we'll just have to roll out the welcome mat, Wadden?" joked Merrick half-heartedly. "Wouldn't want their pauldrons to get itchy waiting for us, now would we?"

"You know, Merrick, one day I wish you could be something other than cynical or sarcastic," said Hurst. "Be serious, perhaps? Aren't you worried by the idea that the Archenemy is here?"

"I guess Remer's been rubbing off on me," admitted Merrick, grinning.

Hurst looked at him hard. "He's an optimist, Merrick. There's a difference between being irritatingly cheerful, and irritatingly cynical. You probably could stand to let him rub off on you, if it will get you out of this slump."

The elevator bank behind them opened up, and out stepped Governor Derosa and Tullassar's retinue. Merrick and Hurst nodded as she approached. She was straight to business. "We've found the entrance they used to enter the complex." The Governor explained, "The Hounds of Vandis forced their way through the maintenance levels, near the water recycling system. The Artemian's psykers confirmed that they were being aided by an Astartes Sorcerer, as you and your men discovered."

Merrick crossed his arms, "I thought you said that the Void Shield was covering the whole spire. How did they get past it in the first place?"

"We are currently reviewing the details, sergeant major, but I promise that you will be the first to know." There was a mutual respect between Merrick and Derosa, but her look informed him that he wouldn't actually find out, so he decided to drop the subject.

"Indeed," said Tullassar. "We should mount an immediate attack to root them out of their tunnels, gentlemen. I shall provide as many troops as I can muster. However, I would request that your men join us. The 85th Vendoland understands the workings of Meridian better than I, and you would make valuable scouts and tactical advisors."

Merrick cocked an eyebrow. "So now we're showing you where to stick your Basilisks?" Hurst sharply nudged Merrick, who quickly added, "sir?"

"In a sense, yes sergeant major. I will see to it that Colonel Nolt relinquishes the 2nd Company from perimeter duty. Have your men ready in half an hour." Derim nodded to the pair and set off without another word, his dignitaries and aides trailing behind him. Derosa gave them a curt nod and returned to her office, leaving them alone once again.

"I don't suppose I get a vote in this, do I?" muttered Merrick.

"No, you don't."

"Right."

"That's a nice model Lasgun you've got there. Accatran carbine is it? Good close quarter weapon. And hotshot rounds. Never used them ourselves, but they'll be perfect for this job. Sure is some fancy kit you have. Here you go." The bald sergeant offered Elliah's gun back to her. His name was Merrick. Like Gren and Flinn, he looked like he'd seen his fair share of combat already.

The palace armory was large enough to equip the Artemian's entire brigade twice over. The 2nd company occupied only a small corner of the vast room. A handful of Vendoland soldiers under Merrick's command were joining them for the operation. They were all hard men, their faces worn by years of combat.

"I thought I should mention," said Flinn, sidling up beside Merrick. "We met someone looking for you, sergeant major. Gren was outside when the cultists attacked."

"Where is he now?" demanded Merrick. "Did he say what he was carrying?"

Flinn shook his head. "He didn't say. It was for your eyes only. His squad was caught up in an explosion. Only he and Flinn made it out. He's pretty broken up about it."

Damn, thought Merrick. He sighed, crestfallen. "He can tell me about it later at the Bunker. After today, I think we could all use a drink."

There was a loud clanging noise. Hurst was banging on the side of a carapace plate like a makeshift bell. "Listen up, all you new people!" Hurst barked. "I am Sergeant Wadden Hurst of the 85th Vendoland. General Derim has assigned us to be your guides for this operation. The Vandis heretics broke in, and we're going to root them out.

"It is a maze of tunnels down there," Hurst continued. "It'll be close quarters fighting, so we've been issued flamers. I want at least one flame trooper on point for every squad. Any questions before we start?"

One of the Artemians raised his hand. "Won't the flamers give away our position to the Hounds sir?"

"These tunnels are tight, soldier. If you see something ahead of you, don't hesitate to fire. The Hounds are smart, so expect ambushes."

"Understood sir." said the trooper, satisfied.

"Any other questions?" asked Hurst. "No? Then let's move out! Break into your squads and follow me."

The room burst into movement, troopers moving to their assigned squads. Sergeant Polris was waiting with the rest of their group when Elliah and Fenn arrived. "Right, you heard the man."

It was pitch black in the lower levels. Power was limited outside of the spire's vital zones. Why that included the maintenance levels was beyond Merrick. The only thing lighting their way were the flamers ahead and the occasional spot lamp. The short bursts of fire periodically illuminated the dark corridors, casting an orange glow across the decaying walls.

"Keep close. We haven't encountered any Hounds yet, but an attack could come at any moment." said Hurst over the vox. "According to the maps, we should be entering a larger chamber up ahead. We'll spread out there."

The news came as a relief to the guardsmen. The two hundred strong company had been reduced to an awkward shuffle as they pushed deeper into the water recycling center. Ten minutes later, the Company reached the open chamber. Faint light from strategically placed mirrors above cast the room in an eerie green glow. Multiple passages stretched out in each direction. It would take hours to scour the tunnels.

Hurst handed his chart table to Merrick. The hololith display of the recycling facility showed they were in one of the maintenance hubs for the tunnels. Hurst pointed to one of the tunnels. "This one intersects at a second chamber here," he said. "They circle around one of the storage tank warehouses. That just so happens to have a direct link to the surface, just by the edge of the Lake Aradine reservoir. It's perfect for moving large numbers of troops from the undercity."

"Right, and then from there, it could let them spread throughout the upper spire," surmised Merrick. "That would also explain how they could attack inside and out at the same time. But that also means we could be facing a lot more cultists than we thought."

Hurst looked grim. "Well," he sighed. "If we can identify them at least, then we can get word back to command, and they can collapse this place from above."

"With us in it."

Hurst ignored the comment. "It's about fifteen hundred meters east, Merrick. We can split into two groups to take the warehouse from both sides."

"Sounds right. Let's get them ready." Merrick turned to the company. "Okay, we're going to split into two teams. Half and half, one group goes with me, the other with Hurst. We converge on the enemy in the center. Remer, Alek, you're with me, Kippler and Vornas are with Hurst. Everyone else, fall in.

The dogs probably have themselves dug in around one of the storage tank warehouses. It'll be open, but I fully expect them to be waiting for us. Flamers and Meltas in the front, and don't be shy with grenades. Any traitor loving dog you see gets a bolt through the eyes, got it? Let's move."

Merrick's night vision goggles really helped with the darkness. The Artemians were stuck with flashlights and flamers, but there was little he could do about it. Ahead, the dripping passageway opened up, allowing the detachment to fan out. Underneath their feet, the sound of running water told Merrick they were getting close.

"So Alek, looks like you've got a new one." said Remer, eyeing Alek's hand. "Where'd you pick up this latest cut?"

"Surgeon's knife," said Alek. "slashed my palm."

"A cut like that, what would you say, two weeks?"

"Two seconds if you don't shut up." said Merrick. Remer had started the squad's trend of treating every supposedly fatal injury that Alek survived as another year they'd live. So far, they were up to ten. "You can compare later. Eyes forward."

Hurst's voice came over the vox. "Merrick, we managed to pull up some more floor plans for the old waterways. You should be coming up to one of the storage tanks if the plans are accurate. It'll be on your right."

Water sloshed under their feet as they continued. "Getting wet here, Hurst. I'd say you're right. It's also getting brighter up ahead. The water's green." The water flowing along the side of the walkway had a faint green glow to it. It was throwing off a surprising amount of light.

"Hmm, must have been a chemical leak somewhere," said Hurst. "I wouldn't touch it, it's probably flammable. Emperor knows what toxins it could release if ignited."

"Roger that Hurst, keep me posted." He turned to the troopers following him. "Spread out. We've got more room and more light. No sense in us huddling together waiting for a grenade to drop."

He raised his hellgun, flanked by Remer and Alek. Behind him, the Artemians split into their fire teams. They rounded the corner on their right. There should have been a doorway there, leading into the warehouse. Instead, there was a large, gaping hole, scarred black from an explosion.

"I like what they've done with the place boss." whispered Remer. "A bit much, but the black trim is quite nice."

"Shut it, Remer. Everyone, on three." Merrick, Alek and Remer planted themselves on either side of the former doorway. "One, two, three!"

The Daredevils moved as one continuous motion. Remer fired his grenade launcher while Alek's hellgun spat death. Merrick, covered by the pair, led the charge into the room. A sharp crack responded to their entry. Merrick was caught in the chest by a las bolt, blasting him off his feet.

The room suddenly was illuminated by lasgun fire. Elliah instinctively ducked as the lasers pierced through the air around her. Beside her, Roland had yanked Fenn down onto the slimy, wet surface of the floor. She dropped down beside them, bringing her gun up into a firing position.

The Hounds had come out from behind the water tanks. The moment after Sergeant Merrick had dropped, dozens of the black armoured fiends rose from their hiding spots, gunning down the Artemians as they desperately rushed for cover. Several Artemians were killed instantly. The rest gathered together and started firing back at the cultists.

"Flamers to the front!" yelled Polris. Manrey and Jurek brought their heavy weapons forward, spraying thick gouts of flame into the cultists. Four hounds were caught in the flames, their flesh melting into their armour. One of the men, still aflame, ran towards them, screaming at the top of his lungs. Elliah filled the man with shot after shot, but he kept running.

Polris pulled out his bayonet, attaching it to his carbine. The burning man leapt at the sergeant. Polris dropped to his knee and braced the gun against his chest, pointing upwards. The Hound was skewered on the sergeant's spike. The cultist flailed his burning arms, trying to grasp at Polris's face. Polris pushed the man aside, ripping his mask off as he did. He immediately wished he hadn't.

There was no face underneath, just a swirling mass of flesh that bled and pulsated. A gaping maw with sharp teeth emerged from the horrible swirling chaos, and latched onto Polris' head. Elliah could only watch while the Hound mauled her sergeant. Polris' screams were muffled as the Hound swallowed his head, lifting the man off the ground with the bayonet still embedded in its chest.

The stunned Guardsmen looked on in terror as the mutated heretic lifted Polris's writing body into the air, blood spewing from its mouth.

"What are you waiting for?" snarled Manrey. "Shoot the blasted thing! Kill it now!"

The Artemians poured las fire into the flaming hellspawn. Polris was dead, and the beast would soon turn to them. Elliah managed to shear its left leg from the body, dropping the Hound to the ground. The rest of the group pummelled its remains with shot after shot, until the monster lay motionless.

Merrick was on his side, breathing heavily. He felt a stinging pain in his chest where the shot had impacted. Looking up, he saw Alek crouching over him. "Just stay still sir! I can fix this!" the boy shouted, admirably calm under fire. Remer was covering them, lobbing grenade after grenade into the traitors, punctuating each shot with an insult.

"You'll pay for shooting the Boss, you bastards!" he roared. One, two, three grenades exploded, tearing through the traitors in the open. "Maybe your didn't hear me, I know it's hard! Do try to keep up!"

Merrick winced, holding his side. It hurt to speak. "Alek, I can wait. Get on the line with Hurst, where the hell is he!?"

Alek looked terrified, but he did what he was told. He pulled the vox speaker from his pack and shouted into the grill. "Hurst, we have enemy contact! I repeat, we have enemy contact! Merrick is down! We're pinned here!"

The screaming Hounds mixed with the explosions of grenades and the piercing shriek of las fire, echoing through the tunnels. There seemed to be no end to the cultist troops, all while more Artemians kept dropping. The guardsmen were barely keeping their foothold in the chamber from being overrun. Merrick rolled onto his back, fighting down the pain.

A barely perceptible hum filled his ears. The noise of battle started to ebb away, being replaced again by that muffled silence from earlier that day. Both sides ceased firing. Somewhere nearby, laughter started. A hissing, metallic laughter filled with contempt, and growing ever louder. A voice spoke, piercing every soldier's mind.

"Pathetic, loyalists. Truly pathetic. To think, we were nearly pushed from this world mere months ago by the likes of you. Is this truly the greatest that the False Emperor can muster? No Blood Ravens will come to save you this time, fools. You are alone, and I am your end."

Elliah ripped her helmet off, and pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block out the voice. It ripped at her mind, tearing at her sanity even as she struggled to block it out. Others were doing the same, ripping off their helmets and crying in agony. The voice uttered that horrible laugh again.

"Oh, it is futile trying to ignore me, fools. Your minds are my playthings, your souls are my currency. What say you, followers? Should I make an example for their masters?" The hounds jeered and whooped, emboldened by the voice that filled the room.

A swirling purple mist emerged from the vents above, crackling with the energy of the Warp. From it emerged a massive figure, clad in robes with arcane heraldry, and wearing demonic armour adorned with the Eight Pointed Star. The Chaos Sorcerer exited the Warp portal, and looked across the chamber with a sadistic smile.

"My my, to think that weaklings such as yourself could best my brethren, let alone that fool Vandis's rabble." he said in a sickeningly patronizing tone. "I suppose your punishment should be more fitting of your stature than just a quick death, wouldn't you agree?"

The Sorcerer walked amidst the carnage, lifting screaming guardsmen into the air on tendrils of fire as he passed. "Know that I am Crowley, Sorcerer of the Black Legion. We were once two, now I am one, and stronger for it. Strength endures, weakness is expunged, as I am sure you have been taught. Allow me to continue your 'education'."

Merrick struggled to look up, still clutching the hole in his armour to stop the bleeding. It was those eyes. He remembered the eyes. That Sorcerer from Spire Legis. Those flaming red eyes were unmistakeable. It was him, still alive. Crowley stopped, staring down at him.

"You recognize me, whelp?" said the Sorcerer mockingly. "You wear the colours of those who drove us aside. Perhaps I recognize you as well." The flaming tendrils wrapped around Merrick, lifting him up to face the Sorcerer. His arms were pulled apart, his wound bleeding freely.

"Such courage, to look me in the eyes. Most turn aside rather than face me. But not you, it seems. So disrespectful. I should fix that. Perhaps I will burn those eyes from your skull. Does that seem like an appropriate punishment for one who would look at me without fear?".

The mutants hollered their enthusiastic response. Remer and Alek looked on helplessly while the Sorcerer toyed with Merrick. Merrick grunted as the tendrils squeezed tighter, forcing the air out of his lungs. Crowley chuckled. "You heard them, whelp. Time to burn." Merrick spat in the marine's face. The Sorcerer's smile turned into a mask of rage. "I'll make sure it is slow."

Merrick found himself staring into two glowing red holes as the Sorcerer's energy made the air swirl and crackle around them. A deep, rumbling laughter filled his ears, thousands of sick and twisted voices joining in an unholy chorus. The sound resonated in his head. He couldn't shut his eyes. He wouldn't give the Sorcerer the satisfaction. If this was to be his death, he'd face it without faltering. Merrick met the traitor's face with a steely glare.

"Gaze into oblivion."

CRACK.

Merrick hit the ground with a thud. Above, Crowley was stumbling backwards. A massive hole had been carved into his forehead, spilling that flaming red light like blood. A terrible roar erupted from the sorcerer's lips, a mixture of pain and rage.

CRACK.

This time, Merrick saw the shot, and recognized the noise. It was the sound of a Long Las Rifle, firing at full power. The bolt hit Crowley at a forty five degree angle, slicing his neck. Merrick looked up. Kippler was set up on one of the gantries overlooking the warehouse floor, loading a new energy cell into his gun. Hurst, Vornas, and a hundred Artemians burst into the room behind the hounds, lasguns firing on full auto.

The noise in the guardsmen's minds dropped away, and the survivors from Merrick's group resumed the fight. Elliah stumbled upright, pulling other troopers to their feet. Roland was shouting orders. "Cover the wounded! Get up come on!"

Vornas ran over to the Daredevils. He grabbed Remer and Alek, hauling them to their feet. "Didn't think you'd be one to start a fight without me, Remer. I'm jealous. It seems I missed the fun."

Between blasts of his grenade launcher, Remer quipped back. "You should be extra jealous, Vornas. Someone got a shot off on the boss, and we got a class presentation from mister burning head over there."

"Oh that's different then." said Vornas. "I'm not jealous, just angry."

The Sorcerer's broken face continued to spew red light, but he was steadying himself. Dozens more Hounds and regular Vandis foot soldiers poured out from the tanks, whooping and screaming and firing their guns recklessly into the growing melee. Hurst ran one dog through with his bayonet before rifle butting a second. He eyed Merrick crawling along the ground, clutching his side. A trail of blood followed him. "Merrick, I'm coming!"

Hurst killed two more of the Hounds, sprinting to his downed friend. He skidded along the floor before coming to a stop beside Merrick. "It's alright, Merrick, I've got you." he said firmly. "We'll get you out of here as soon as we can!"

The sorcerer had stabilized himself, and what was left of his face contorted into an image of pure rage. "YOU DARE!? I AM CROWLEY, I AM ONE, I AM ETERNAL! EMBRACE THE WARP EVERLASTING!" His hands glowed with warpfire. Doombolts, psychic bursts of warp energy, shot from his fingertips, consuming dozens of the Artemians in unholy fire.

"Bring that fucker down!" called one of the Artemian sergeants. A veritable light show of lasgun bolts convened on the Sorcerer, piercing his ceramite armour in several places, revealing more and more of that horrible, red glow. The Sorcerer swept his staff like a farmer's scythe, bisecting a group of guardsmen too close to him. Their bodies expanded and burst when they hit the floor, showering the chamber in blood.

Above, Kippler picked his targets carefully. His aim was unfaltering, and wherever a shot landed, it was soon followed by panic from the Hounds. Up here, he could see where the Hounds were coming from. Several of the water tanks were empty, and looked like they were being used to hold troops. More kept spilling out from further into the warehouse. None of them had taken to the gantry yet, letting him continue to harass them unimpeded.

The Artemians pulled back from the melee to distance themselves from Crowley's rage and the mutant cultists. Warpfire continued to cut through them, tearing apart soldiers effortlessly, but the Hounds were beginning to falter. Under the steady stream of las fire, they were more cautious, consolidating around their incensed leader. Elliah continued to trade shots with the hounds, staying low.

Remer and Vornas stood side by side. Vornas was going berserk, killing every heretic in his field of view, with no regards for his own safety. Wielding his grenade launcher like a blunt club, he crushed the head of a Vandis soldier with it, before throwing the broken weapon at the traitors.

A krak grenade burst inside the broken launcher, shrapnel piercing the supports for one of the water tanks. The tank collapsed, sending a cascade of green water sloshing across everyone. An errant flamer burst hit the surface, igniting the flammable chemicals. Suddenly, the whole room was aflame.

Remer turned casually to Vornas. "You finished yet? Or should we take out the ceiling supports to make you feel better?"

"I don't care, just melt these fuckers!" he roared in response.

"I WILL REND YOU APART IN MIND AND BODY! YOU WILL NOT LEAVE HERE ALIVE!" screeched Crowley, now covered in flames and buckling under the repeated las fire. The sigils and markings across his armour were now twisted and mangled, and he looked less a figure of knowledge and power, and more a brute, barely containing his 'human' form. "WITNESS OBLIVION!"

Elliah began to feel the ground shake beneath her boots. The flaming water was swirling around the Sorcerer, the flames reaching ever higher the closer they were to the apex of the whirlpool. "Elliah, get back from there!" Fenn and Roland grabbed her arms, pulling her away from the growing vortex. The room was shaking, the rusting supports beginning to snap under the tension.

Kippler packed up his rifle and sprinted for the stairs. He reached the bottom just as the entire section ripped off, caught in the whirlwind. He rushed over to Hurst, and the two hauled Merrick to his feet. Hurst shouted to the remaining guardsmen. "Everyone, pull back! The place is going to collapse! Move, move!"

The Hounds and Vandis troops, confused by their imploding leader, ignored the danger and stared at the spectacle. As it expanded, they were dragged inwards, into the twisting inferno. Elliah stole one last glance behind her before sprinting for the exit. The Sorcerer was still visible in the middle, screaming with countless voices. She then rushed after Roland and Fenn into the darkness of the side tunnels. The blackness seemed much more enticing now.

"Come on, faster, faster!" shouted Hurst, moving as quickly as he could without hurting Merrick. The Daredevils were the last ones out. Remer, Alek and Vornas were up ahead corralling the Artemians forward. He and Soras were bringing up the rear, hauling Merrick.

"Kippler, melta bombs!" said Hurst. Kippler nodded without a word. Turning back, he lobbed two explosives back into the chamber. Without looking back, they ran.

Inside the chamber, amidst the flames and swirling energies of the warp, the currents of wind caught the two melta bombs, drawing them into the center of the mass. Circling Lord Crowley as if caught in a drain, the melta bombs spun closer and closer. Finally, one of the devices struck the Marine in the remnants of his face.

Several hundred yards away, the fleeing Guardsmen heard the deafening blast. Then, the tunnel was filled with a huge blast of dust and water, swiftly overtaking them. Then all was silent.

Two hours passed in the darkness. The remains of the company made their way back to the Administratum Complex's lower levels. There was a sound up ahead. The weary guardsmen readied their weapons, prepared to take another attack. Exhausted, Hurst called ahead. "Identify yourself!"

A familiar voice responded. "Imperial Guard, 85th Vendoland! Respond!"

"Imperial Guard!" said Hurst, a smile growing across his face. "4th Grenadiers and 31st Artemian!"

The sound of footsteps echoed through the halls. Elliah and her squad could see spot lamps and helmet lights in the distance, coming closer. When they arrived, she was greeted with the faces of Gren and Flinn, along with several more soldiers wearing Vendoland green. She breathed a sigh of relief, and slumped against the wall in exhaustion. They were safe.

Flinn smiled. "Didn't I ask you if we could grab a drink, earlier?" He offered her his hand.

Elliah accepted his grip, and he hauled her to her feet. "I think I'll take you up on it."

"Make that two of us, lad." said Gren softly. Merrick slowly turned his head upwards, and gave a weak smile.

"It's good to see you, Gren."

Gren returned the smile. "And you, friend."